


Puberty and the Taste of Magic

by askandiwilllie



Series: Puberty [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Love, Incest, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/askandiwilllie/pseuds/askandiwilllie





	Puberty and the Taste of Magic

It’s a week after the curse breaks that Henry spends the night at Regina’s again.

With the knowledge of what Zelena’s plans are, paired with the return of their memories, it’s not long before the Wicked Witch is defeated and dead. Evidently not a moment too soon, as Snow goes into labor the day after.

Henry and Emma stay with David and Snow at first due to the wards Regina had put up there, then they find a place of their own to move into and have their things shipped from New York.

Regina spends the time away from her son exploring her burgeoning relationship with Robin, and resolutely pushes any uncomfortable emotions to the back of her mind, despite Archie’s advice to the contrary.

It backfires a week after the curse breaks, when Henry comes home (they’ve all agreed that he’ll alternate weeks between Regina’s house and Emma’s apartment) and hugs her tightly. He holds on for too long and presses his face into her neck, and for the first time ever, she tenses as he hugs her.

"I missed you, Mom," he says into her neck, his voice rough and squeaking, and her arms are stiff around him.

"I missed you, too, Henry," she says, her tone and words honest despite her discomfort. She carefully extricates herself from his embrace, and smiles at him. It feels false. "Why don’t you go up to your room and get settled in while I start dinner?"

Henry grins like he isn’t feeling the awkwardness at all, and Regina isn’t sure if she’s relieved or concerned. She watches as he bounds up the stairs, then sighs deeply, turning toward the kitchen.

Dinner is a quiet affair with little in the way of conversation until Henry moves to leave the table.

"Sit down, please, Henry," Regina says seriously, pushing her plate back and lacing her fingers together on the table in front of her.

Henry looks at her curiously, but takes his seat again. “What’s wrong, Mom?” he asks, and she wonders how the hell he found a sense of normal so quickly.

"I think we need to talk about what happened last week."

She can  **see**  him debating how to react, and when he settles on confused and says, “I thought we already did?” she’s a little relieved to see that his sense of normality is just as much a mask as hers is. She also can’t help but feel bad, she’s never wanted her baby to have to go through something this confusing.

"Henry," Regina sighs, looking at him. "We  **need**  to talk about this. You kissed me.”

"Yeah, but I didn’t know you’re my mom when I did. It’s not like I did it again after my memories came back." The best defense is a good offence, and Henry had evidently learned that already.

Regina nods, agreeing with him. “I’m not arguing that, sweetheart. I just think we need to talk about what it means now that you do know I’m your mother. That memory isn’t going away, and we’re  _both_  acting differently because of it.”

Henry sighs and slouches in his chair, apparently realizing that he isn’t getting out of this talk so easily. “Can’t we just not talk about it?” he asked, almost whining. “I talk to Archie, isn’t that enough?”

"Archie is the one who suggested that you and I talk," she revealed. "I’ve talked to him, too."

Eyes wide, Henry looks at her in confused incredulity. “What do  **you**  need to talk to him for? You’re not the one who has a life of caring mom and a week of hot for mayor in his head!” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he flushes bright red.

Regina barely holds in a choking laugh at the absurdity of this entire situation. “No,” she agrees, choosing to completely ignore his wording. “But I am a mother whose son is turning into a young man without her, who discovered this with a kiss that broke a curse.” She sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. “Henry, I’m not sure you understand what it means that the curse broke when you kissed me.”

"Sure I do," he says with a casual shrug. "It means I love you and you love me. Just like when Emma broke the first curse by kissing me."

"No, sweetheart," Regina smiles sadly. "It’s not quite the same."

Henry frowns. “What do you mean, Mom?”

Taking a slow, deep breath, Regina answered, “When Emma broke the curse, she loved you as her son, and you loved her as,” her voice chokes for a second, “your mother.” Clearing her throat, she continues, “When you broke the kiss, I loved you as my son, but it wasn’t love for a mother from your side. It was… a romantic love,” she has to force the words out, keenly aware of the  _wrongness_  of them.

Looking anywhere but at his mother, Henry clears his throat once, then again. “Well,” his voice squeaks anyway, so he clears his throat again. “Well… I mean… I didn’t know any better, right? I thought you were just the mayor of this weird little town. And I liked spending time with you. I-I thought you were… cool.” He cringes at his own words and sneaks a peek at his mother.

Regina sighs and fights the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose, reminded of why she had put Henry in therapy in the first place — they’re terrible at communicating with each other. “Henry… that kind of love… it doesn’t just go away because you know in your head that it’s not appropriate. I’m concerned, sweetheart. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

And despite that sentiment, a hurt expression crosses Henry’s face. “So… you didn’t feel it?” he asks quietly. “Not even a little?”

"Feel what, sweetheart?" she asks gently.

She watches Henry swallow, watches him find the words and finally say, “The way the magic tasted.”

Blinking in surprise, Regina sits back in her chair. She’s always known that people experience magic differently — some as a scent, a sensation inside, a touch over their skin, even a sound ringing in their ears. But she’s never before met someone who experienced it as a flavor in their mouth. “How did it taste?” she asks in a thick whisper.

Henry looks down at the table, and she can hear him scuffing his foot against the floor. “It tasted like… the sun. Bright and burning. But also cool and soothing, like rain on the sidewalk in the middle of summer. But then it was sweet, too, like really fresh, juicy berries. And there was a sting, kind of like when your foot falls asleep and you get pins and needles?” Sighing in frustration, he kicks the table leg, making the dishes clang together. Regina can’t bring herself to chastise him for it, knowing how confusing magic can be. “You didn’t taste it?” he asks in a small voice.

Trying to smile, Regina shakes her head. “That’s not how I sense magic, dear. I feel it inside me, I don’t taste it. Different people experience magic differently.”

"It didn’t taste anything like when Emma broke the curse," he says, volunteering the information before she can ask. "That was lighter, like catching snowflakes on your tongue and eating angel food cake."

"You know that my magic and Emma’s magic are very different," she reminds him. "It’s possible that’s why it tasted different."

Henry’s shaking his head before she finishes her sentence. “That’s not it,” he insists. “I’ve tasted your magic before, I can taste it whenever you do magic around me. It’s kinda the same, but not really. But when the curse broke, it tasted different. Like… like everything in the world was happening all at the same time. Like home and happiness and like everything I’d ever want was right there.”

His eyes stare into hers imploringly, and Regina has to look away. “Henry,” she groans, pleadingly. “You can’t—”

"You said you can’t just make that kind of love go away," he reminds her. "You can’t just make it go away, and I don’t want to make it go away. It feels good. It feels right, like how it’s supposed to be."

"No, Henry," she says softly, not wanting to hurt him further. "That’s not how it’s supposed to be. I’m your mother. You’re still a child."

"You say that like it means something," his tone it petulant as he crosses his arms over his chest.

She meets his gaze steadily and says, “It means something to me.”

She can see the heartbreak in his eyes and it makes her want to cry, but she stands firm, knowing that she can’t encourage his feelings. And, despite her conflicting feelings of the knowledge that her  _son_  feels romantic True Love for her, the fact that he  **is**  her son, and he  **is**  still a child solidifies it in her mind that this is something she needs to put an end to.

"I thought you’d understand," Henry says, and Regina feels something wrench in her chest at the sight of his tears.

"Henry…"

"No!" Henry jumps up from his chair, yelling, "You can pretend you didn’t feel it, but I know you did! That’s why you’re pushing me away now, because you’re scared! But I’m not!" Then he’s running, out of the room, up the stairs, and she hears his bedroom door slam shut.

Regina takes a moment to rest her head in her hands, eyes squeezed shut. “Why did this have to happen?” she whispers to herself, to the room, to the universe.

The answer doesn’t come.


End file.
